Comments on: Ferreting out a viable rhythm for an urban lifeFri, 26 Aug 2016 18:08:26 +0000hourly1http://wordpress.com/By: Matthttps://bythedarkofthemoon.wordpress.com/?p=641/#comment-14235
Fri, 14 Nov 2014 05:30:51 +0000http://bythedarkofthemoon.wordpress.com/?p=641#comment-14235Hi Mike,
I was a journalist and I frequently miss the work. I’m now a technical writer, which is like being a content developer and a User of Authoring Tools, but it is not much like being a writer. I consider this blog to be a poor substitute for the real work of my life, which I’m not doing. That’s writing stuff like this, only better.

You must have seen Paul Dorpat’s piece. For me that was like being in a movie. I share your love of Seattle history and I’ve blogged plenty about it, but those posts are mixed in with all my existential thrashing. For more history and less wordy solipsism, you should check out Vintage Seattle. It was a website (vintageseattle.org) but now it’s on Facebook. You’ll find your tribe there for sure, they’re all local history hounds.

Thanks for stopping by. I felt very affirmed by your comment.

]]>By: Mike Fosterhttps://bythedarkofthemoon.wordpress.com/?p=641/#comment-14232
Fri, 14 Nov 2014 03:08:02 +0000http://bythedarkofthemoon.wordpress.com/?p=641#comment-14232Thanks for your blog. I’m really into Seattle history, and stumbled upon your site via an article in regards to the Savoy Hotel. Are you a journalist or professional writer? Very strong writing, and much appreciated!
]]>By: A friend for the streetcorner « Just Wonderinghttps://bythedarkofthemoon.wordpress.com/?p=641/#comment-1591
Thu, 24 Feb 2011 07:18:46 +0000http://bythedarkofthemoon.wordpress.com/?p=641#comment-1591[…] which has appeared in several of my posts. David at Lionheart Books in the market. Miguel, my barber. The crew at Seattle’s Best, also in the market, and Diane, their superfriendly manager until […]
]]>By: Kelleyhttps://bythedarkofthemoon.wordpress.com/?p=641/#comment-729
Sat, 13 Mar 2010 20:17:43 +0000http://bythedarkofthemoon.wordpress.com/?p=641#comment-729I think you may be onto something there, M., and I feel so much respect for the personhood of those individuals who extend themselves to tend to others’ personal services. It’s such a psychological balancing act for both the service provider and the recipient, and often the lighterweight is bounced off the teeter-totter (I don’t think I’ve ever actually written “teeter-totter” before; looks so odd in print).

I had a massage practitioner in personal-life-meltdown who unburdened herself during our weekly sessions, and eventually I had to quit her practice. We had begun as friends, and she was a wonderful, tuned-in practitioner before her personal crisis, but increasingly I found myself leaving our sessions more uptight than when I arrived: the stress energy in her hands, the weight of her information and the effort to respond to her kept me from giving myself over completely to the session and reaping its full psychological and muscular benefits. She eventually pulled back from active practice, took a few years off to nourish herself, and is back providing wonderful, tuned-in bodywork to a fortunate clientele (which unfortunately no longer includes me; since starting my own biz my disposable income is exhausted by one trip to 7-11).

]]>By: jstwndrnghttps://bythedarkofthemoon.wordpress.com/?p=641/#comment-728
Wed, 10 Mar 2010 16:57:40 +0000http://bythedarkofthemoon.wordpress.com/?p=641#comment-728This all has me wondering if it takes a certain kind of personality to excel at being involved in other people’s physical persons — I mean not only hair, skin and toenails but aslo even clothes and shoes — and I wonder if that tendency to monologue about the details of their own life is a verbal guywire that holds them back in their own space while they tend in a very real way to ours.

Thanks for this novellita, Kel. I love the part about finally letting go and letting the river wash over you, and finding a surprise pathway there. That rings very true to my central belief about life and other people, and in fact I have a post — as yet unwritten — about this very thing happening to me in Morocco, of all places. I’ll get to it someday.

]]>By: Kelleyhttps://bythedarkofthemoon.wordpress.com/?p=641/#comment-727
Wed, 10 Mar 2010 04:23:02 +0000http://bythedarkofthemoon.wordpress.com/?p=641#comment-727Leave it to you to make me think in slo-mo about something over which my thoughts generally hurdle on their way elsewhere.

I have a love/annoyance relationship with my hair designer (the term on which she firmly insists and with which I have no quibble) and Sheryl Crow doppleganger, whom I would follow from her current Gasworks Burke-Gilman Trail’s edge condo/salon to the farthest reaches of a 20-mile radius because she gives my wispies the loveliest delusions of grandeur. I leave her chair knowing that on any given day in the next five weeks (when my next cut or perm – oh dear, now *that* cat is debagged – is scheduled) I’ll be able to coax my best look out of my graying hanks with only a few moments effort (I don’t always give it even those few, but if you ever see me looking like I just decamped from Whoville that’s down to me, not her).

She was referred to me by someone whose similarly-structured follicular output I have frequent opportunities to assess, so I was sold before ever shaking her smallish hand.

I’ve been tipping my head trustingly backwards into her shampoo sink for oh, five or six years now, and while I am a slave to her work I have found her type-A, non-stop, self-centric conversational personal style a tad stressful. In this aspect she is one of those people in my life who is, because I choose to make her so, one of my greatest teachers. In her chair I’m not really a contributing speaker, but a substantial rock around which the river of her words sluices, continuously, tangential eddies tugging for assurance and/or validation.

For a long time I splashed fretfully upstream, wanting equal time in the conversation, wanting her to hear me, finally wanting her to just zip it for pity’s sake. Finally, in about year four I’m ashamed to admit, I flopped back, exhausted, and just let the stream wash over. That’s when I actually started hearing her with my compassionate inner ear, not my “here we go again” ear, and understood with what bravery and intrepidity (did I just make up a word?) she traverses a life path riddled with more than its fair share of potholes. I have a front-row seat for 45-120 minutes to her earnest quest for decency, meaning, love, affordable healthcare and reliable motorcycle parts. I see her valiance, her tenacity, her compassion, her fierce passion for tolerance and equal rights. She’s well on her way to being one of my heroes, and I think that at current doses of 10-11/yr she’ll stay that way.

]]>By: Marnihttps://bythedarkofthemoon.wordpress.com/?p=641/#comment-133
Tue, 21 Jul 2009 02:09:05 +0000http://bythedarkofthemoon.wordpress.com/?p=641#comment-133I’m not sure we’re ready for NPR quite yet!
]]>By: jstwndrnghttps://bythedarkofthemoon.wordpress.com/?p=641/#comment-131
Mon, 20 Jul 2009 23:37:11 +0000http://bythedarkofthemoon.wordpress.com/?p=641#comment-131I wonder if that’s because outside of family or church, these people represent the availability of some immediate, old-world style community. It feels good to be known “on the street” of one’s village, as it were, (as Kip pointed out about his dad) and there’s a trust there because you’re engaging in trade with these people. Thanks for the comment, Jen.
]]>By: Jenihttps://bythedarkofthemoon.wordpress.com/?p=641/#comment-130
Mon, 20 Jul 2009 23:02:41 +0000http://bythedarkofthemoon.wordpress.com/?p=641#comment-130I find it fascinating the friendships that develop with people like hair stylists or barbers, or fruit stand cashiers or lawn cutting guys. I have had some of the most interesting conversations and relationships. Thanks for sharing🙂
]]>By: jstwndrnghttps://bythedarkofthemoon.wordpress.com/?p=641/#comment-120
Sat, 18 Jul 2009 03:44:45 +0000http://bythedarkofthemoon.wordpress.com/?p=641#comment-120This is it, Kipper old bean. And you’re a character!
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